From PortHub #2, Adam's pickup truck rolled down the Jakarta highway—a shadow of the city it once was. A thin haze lingered in the air, while the ruins of shattered buildings still littered the roadsides, though the main route had been cleared by military heavy machinery.
Ahead and behind them, trucks from other gangs moved in formation, calm but alert.
"Refa, where's the nearest fortress wall?" Adam asked, eyes fixed on the skeletal remains of buildings.
"Kota Tua," Refa replied curtly, his hands steady on the wheel.
Adam frowned. Kota Tua... that was barely two kilometers from the coast. If the sea mutants had made it that far…
The truck kept a steady pace, around 40 to 50 km/h. Strong winds mixed with dust blew from behind. The sky was bleak, smothered by thick black clouds, and only a sliver of sunlight managed to break through.
"What do you think… is the state of humanity now?" Adam asked softly, his voice nearly drowned out by the engine. "Has the government said anything?"
Refa took a deep breath, easing up on the gas as they passed a massive pothole.
"In short… we're screwed," he said flatly. "West Java… rumor is only six percent of the population remains."
Adam stared blankly ahead. Six percent… That sounded more like a sick joke than a statistic.
"Word is, other countries are a mess too. The US lost 40% of its people. China, even worse—55%," Refa added, voice heavy.
Adam swallowed hard. The more he heard, the harder it became to fight the creeping fear in his chest. This wasn't just a disaster… it was extinction.
"Still being alive is already a blessing from the Goddess of Life," Refa muttered with a bitter smile.
"I guess I agree," Adam replied quietly. "But… has anyone figured out what caused all this?"
That was the question that always haunted him. What triggered the mutations? Was it really just a natural disaster? Or something more?
Refa shook his head.
"Sorry, Sir Adam. I haven't heard anything—not even from the insiders. Nothing about the cause." He glanced occasionally at the side mirror.
Adam nodded slightly. Not surprising. If there was an answer, it was probably buried deep among the high-ranking officials.
They continued their journey in casual conversation for about thirty minutes. Most of it revolved around the state of the world, the future, and what it would take for humanity to survive. That small talk chipped away at the silence, warming the atmosphere amid the ruins.
Eventually, they arrived at the gates of the Northern Fortress.
A towering 20-meter wall stood tall, made from bricks, sandbags, and whatever else could serve as a barrier. Not pretty, but functional—exactly what Adam expected from a makeshift defense.
Below, dozens of trucks were parked neatly. Guard posts stood at several points. Evolvers moved in and out of the gate. Some returned with relieved laughter, others walked in silence, red-eyed, carrying stories left untold.
"We've arrived, Sir Adam," said Refa as he brought the truck to a stop. "Do we head out immediately or set up a temporary post first?"
Adam checked his watch. Still enough time.
"Let's head out. Our team's too small—setting up a post would just waste time."
Refa nodded, then pressed his hands together over his chest. "Then let's say a prayer."
Adam blinked, caught off guard, but said nothing. He closed his eyes, clenched his fists, and joined the moment of heavy silence.
"Amen."
Refa opened his eyes and restarted the engine. The truck rolled slowly through the steel gate—8 meters high, 4 meters wide. A few soldiers stood by, watching them pass without a word. The previous inspection was enough. They weren't infected.
Adam held his breath, heart beating faster. A mix of curiosity and anxiety churned in his gut.
What was waiting outside?
As soon as they cleared the gate, Adam froze.
A vast land stretched as far as the eye could see—flat, devastated. Concrete debris, metal shards, and shattered glass were everywhere. In the distance, the aftermath of a massive explosion still smoked, dark clouds billowing skyward.
"Smoke?" Adam muttered, squinting at the rising plume in the distance. "Where's it coming from?"
Refa, behind the wheel, glanced briefly. "Nuclear explosion in the Java Sea. Rumor says it's the only thing that could stop the giant mutant."
Adam held his breath. Nuclear? His eyes scanned the surroundings—sharp and alert. But something felt off. There were no mutants. No zombies.
"Where are they?" he murmured, more to himself, but Refa heard.
"The area near the wall's been cleared," Refa replied, turning the wheel left. "But we're entering the grey zone soon. Not exactly safe."
After about five minutes of driving, they arrived at a wide clearing packed with parked trucks. It was today's gathering point for the exploration teams.
"We're here, Sir. Exploration #32," Refa said as he killed the engine and stepped out. "I'll wait here. The rest's up to you."
Adam gave a short nod. "Thanks, Refa."
Amel and Izul, the young porters, had already hopped off. Amel stood beside Adam, nervously surveying the crowd.
"Boss… there's so many people," she whispered.
Within a 20-meter radius, groups of gang members and soldiers gathered. Some had just returned, dragging the corpses of massive mutants—two to three meters tall, blood still dripping from their wounds.
The Evolvers walked tall, proud of their kills. Behind them, the porters—both men and women—struggled to haul the bodies with ropes and hooks, their clothes soaked in sweat.
Adam took it all in, then let out a slow breath. "Let's move. Time to hunt."
It was 10 a.m.—seven hours left in the day.
Refa had already joined the other drivers, relaxing in a corner with a cigarette and a steaming cup of coffee.
"Alright, Boss, Izul, let's go!" Amel called, tugging Izul's arm.
Adam took the lead, stepping calmly through the debris of ruined buildings. They moved away from the exploration point, heading into wild territory. Several gangs passed them along the way—strangers with stern faces and full combat gear. The air felt heavy with tension.
Amel tightened her grip on her backpack. "Boss… they're scary," she whispered, her eyes lingering on a massive Evolver who'd just walked past, radiating strength with every step.
Adam didn't even glance. "Ignore them. They've evolved earlier than us. We've got our own path."
Amel nodded, trying to steady her breathing.
After three minutes of walking, they spotted it—a towering figure, around three meters tall. Around it moved smaller mutants, rabbit-like in shape but with red eyes and sharp fangs.
Adam raised his hand slowly. "Careful."
They crouched behind a pile of rubble. The towering creature was actually a mutated corn plant. Its thick stalk swayed violently, its leaves snapping like living whips. Beneath it lay the torn remains of another mutant, blood pooling on the ground.
The corn monster twisted slowly, as if sensing them. Its head was partially shattered, with bleeding kernels. It looked nothing like a normal plant—more like a twisted predator with a crooked grin.
Around it, the mutant rabbits bounced wildly, their teeth clattering like they were craving flesh.
Amel gulped. "Boss… its stats are insane. It's really strong."
Her armor was already fully activated, and her left eye displayed data through her high-tech monocle.
Adam didn't say much. He calmly unzipped his bag and pulled out the Viper Sniper, still carefully wrapped. His movements were smooth and practiced, like someone who'd done this a hundred times.
He gave Amel a quick glance. If she said it was strong, he believed her. She didn't speak lightly about danger.
Sniper ready, Adam placed his eye on the scope. Slowly, he aimed for the corn monster's head, steadying his breath as he waited for the perfect moment to strike.